Nevertell

by Katharine Orton

  Besides, there was no way out of the room — not until someone opened the door again. Maybe they should just rest now, so they would be ready for when Svetlana returned?

  Lina glanced at Bogdan. He was keeping his eyes half-open — just — but they rolled every now and then up underneath his heavy lids. Watching him, Lina felt the same happening to her. She listened to Bogdan’s breathing, and it reminded her of her mother’s soft breaths when she would press an ear against her chest. The sound had always lulled her. Made her feel safe.

  She slept.

  In her dreams, she was buried deep underground in the cold, but she could see a light above her and feel its warmth. She knew that, no matter what, she had to reach the light. She woke to find herself clawing and flailing at thin air, as if trying to dig her way out. Only to be faced with a room full of flickering oil lamps — and Svetlana at the foot of their beds.

  Svetlana was pale. And furious.

  “Liars!” she bellowed. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Me?”

  Lina felt groggy. She couldn’t think. She opened her mouth to speak, but it felt like her tongue was still asleep.

  “Think carefully before you utter another word, child. A second lie will cost you dearly.” Svetlana’s dark eyes flashed as if they contained lightning. And, if her eyes were lightning, her voice was thunder. “I know you weren’t on a private errand. Humans — you’re all the same. Liars. Betrayers. You only ever think of yourselves.”

  Lina knew Bogdan was awake too when he silently sank his nails into her arm. That, and his sudden intake of breath, betrayed his fear. He was right to be afraid. Lina had to be careful. One wrong word could mark the end of the road for both of them.

  “The part about the other prisoners trying to kill us is true. But we weren’t running an errand for Commandant Zima. We were trying to escape as well. I guess you saw all this? When we slept?” she said, testing her.

  “It’s not your place to question me,” Svetlana snapped.

  There was no point in lying anymore. “Mama and I were desperate to escape the camp,” said Lina. “So Mama made a deal with those men you had wolf-bound in exchange for food, with the promise of a reward when we got to my grandmother’s house in Moscow. I always kept my distance from them before, because they had bad reputations. Especially Vadim. Bogdan followed me because he was worried. He didn’t want me getting into trouble. Because when I heard about the escape plan, I didn’t care who the men were or about their reputations; all I wanted was to go with them. So I’d know what it was like to be free.”

  She paused to check Svetlana’s face. Flickering light from the lamps danced on her skin, but her jaw was set firm. “You gave up the right to freedom when you became a criminal,” said Svetlana.

  “But I didn’t commit any crime,” said Lina. “Neither of us did.”

  “Both of you — explain.”

  Bogdan piped up first. “My parents are political prisoners. I don’t think the secret police knew what to do with me, after they took them . . . I look older than I am, and I used to be strong, so they sent me to Lina’s camp — to work in the mine.”

  Lina steadied herself. “I was born in the camp. It’s where I’ve lived my whole life. I wasn’t there for doing anything wrong either.” Even if she had been, she mused, would she have deserved it? Would anyone? Knowing that place like Lina did, she didn’t think so. “My mama was taken there when she was a teenager.”

  Something happened to Svetlana’s face. Her stern white mask seemed to crumble, and a hollow look came into her eyes. But it wasn’t pity. It was something else. Sadness? Fear?

  A thought crossed Lina’s mind. Maybe now was the time to ask if Svetlana could help her mother. It was worth trying — it could be her only chance. “Please,” she said. “My mama is still in the camp. She’s innocent too. Can you help me free her? Use your wolves?”

  Svetlana scowled. “Why should I help you? Why should I even believe you this time?” she said, her voice quavering. “About any of it?”

  Lina looked Svetlana dead in the eye. “Because it’s the truth and I think you’re someone who specializes in the truth. And we’re giving it to you now.”

  Svetlana’s mouth and eyebrows twitched. This wasn’t good.

  “Enough,” she growled. “Both of you.” Her rage grew until it filled the room. “You are proven liars. Informants, no doubt. I wonder how many others you betrayed before your own imprisonment. And now you want me to help you! Enough of your tricks. As you cannot be bound, either you will agree to serve me in human form, or I will take you back to your prison camp where you will face certain execution for your escape. You have tonight to decide which it will be.”

  With that, she signaled to her shadow servants and marched out the door — a trail of glowing oil lamps, like fireflies, behind her.

  The door closed with a clunk. The shadow people must have locked it from the outside. Lina felt sick.

  “We’re done for,” said Bogdan. “We’ll be killed.”

  “We have to escape,” said Lina.

  “They’re probably standing guard. Listening in on us, right now.” Bogdan was right. They probably were.

  “There’s got to be a way out.” Lina scrambled out of the bed and hurried across the room. Surely they’d overlooked something. They searched the frozen walls with their fingertips, feeling along every crevice and crack. The moth fluttered next to the lamp.

  It was useless. If not even a moth could escape from this room, how would they?

  Bogdan rubbed his eyes and face. “There’s the ‘distract and attack’ technique. We could always try that.”

  It was an old trick they’d seen other prisoners use the few times there’d been a minor riot. One person, or a small group, would create the distraction. Upturn a table or start a fire. Then, while the guards were dealing with the distraction, the other group would be waiting to attack.

  They were fun to watch, these mini riots — for a while. Until things got ugly. In truth, however, Lina had never seen one that ended well for the prisoners involved. She’d always steered clear of them. In fact, Lina had never been in a fight before. She’d seen plenty, of course. She’d also seen her mother dish out a few black eyes and split lips — though only ever to protect their things, or herself and Lina. Her insides squirmed at the thought of wounding another human being — whoever it was. But what other choice did they have?

  She looked around for things they could use. There was the lamp, of course. Or the chairs. Bogdan eyed them too. “When she next comes in,” he said, “I’ll grab a chair and hide behind the door while you stand there and distract her.”

  Lina screwed up her nose. “Distract her? How? With what?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Do a dance: Do the Barynya if you like. As long as she’s looking at you and not me.”

  Lina considered it. She was many things, but a dancer wasn’t one of them. And she’d feel exposed in the middle of the room with nothing for protection. “Right, then,” she said finally. “I’ll just grab a chair to wave at her too. OK?”

  Bogdan raised the corner of his mouth in a lopsided smile. “OK.” Looked like theirs would be the “attack and attack” technique.

  Lina took the necklace off again and studied the larger wooden bead. It gave her comfort to roll it around in her fingers. The moth flew headlong at the lamp and rebounded onto the table. It was hard to watch it try and fail, endlessly, to reach the light.

  In one swift move, Lina scooped it up in her hand and set it next to the bead. “Here, little thing,” she said. “Stick with us.”

  The tiny creature flitted onto her thumbnail and wiggled its antennae, which looked like minuscule ferns. It almost seemed to be thinking about her offer. Did it somehow understand her? Had this normal, plain little creature actually soaked up some magic, being stuck in this place? An idea occurred to her, and she tipped her thumb a little, to angle the moth toward the hole in the big bead. The moth with its shabby brown wings cra
wled inside, into the center of the paper scroll.

  Lina smiled. If they were to try and fail, at least they would all do it together.

  Neither Bogdan nor Lina slept properly after that. For Lina, thoughts of what Svetlana would do to her and Bogdan blurred into images of her mother — a flickering shadow just beyond her reach in the guard tower. And through it all ran Svetlana, braced against the cold, and with the snarling ghost wolves still giving chase. Always at their heels.

  Lina woke with a burning feeling against her chest. The stone. Another warning.

  Just at that moment, something clunked. It came from the door. What was it? The lock? Lina shook Bogdan awake. “What? What?” he said.

  “The door,” hissed Lina. “She’s coming!”

  Bogdan leaped across the room, grabbed a chair, and pressed himself against the wall, next to the door. All in one move. Lina had never seen him act so fast. Her head still felt foggy from sleep. She grabbed another chair, as they’d planned.

  The door creaked open, but just a little — as if nudged by a breeze from the other side. They waited, but no one came. Lina thought she heard something from the hallway. A whisper, so faint it was barely there.

  “Let’s look,” she said, frowning.

  Bogdan nodded. They both put down their chairs and peered around the door.

  The corridor was dimly lit and empty.

  “Hello?” whispered Lina. Besides a dark movement in the corner of her eye that vanished when she turned her head, there was nothing — and no one. Only another whisper that came from nowhere and melted away like frosted breath. “Nevertell.”

  “Thank you,” whispered Lina to the quiet, cool corridor. “Thank you so much.”

  It looked like they had a friend.

  Lina led the way, first of all inching along the dark corridor, then up the spiraling steps of frozen stone, clinging to the gold banister. The way out ought to be just up these stairs and through the hallway. They were so close.

  The house had a weighted silence to it — like a great body of water pressing down on them from above. They reached the ground floor. Lina had the feeling they were being followed, though she didn’t know by who. Or what. The shadow person that had opened the door for them, she guessed. The one who’d whispered. But what — or who — else could be lurking in this corridor, she wondered.

  Natural light filtered into the hallway from somewhere above. Lina had forgotten the translucent blue-green walls up here: the flecks of silver and gold frozen deep inside. Part of her wished she could hold them — or at least touch one.

  Bogdan crept up the last step beside her and looked around. He tapped Lina’s shoulder and pointed to the floor. Flakes of fresh snow peppered the rough stone. Something cold landed on Lina’s cheek. She wiped it away and looked up. There were tiny flakes of snow falling from the ceiling. Actually . . . now when she looked, there was no ceiling.

  Lina wasn’t sure what was more bizarre — seeing the muddy-white sky far above them or seeing all the floors of the tower between them and it. The inside of the tower was split into two halves, joined only by the outer walls and the corridor they stood in. It was just as if an earthquake had opened a chasm through the center.

  The gold staircase stretched up and up. In the daylight, Lina could see all the flourishes on it — flowers, trees, and birds — but also how scuffed and tarnished it was. Frayed blue curtains, like those in their cell, draped from an ornate rail on the floor above them. Lina guessed that was where Svetlana slept.

  Hopefully she was still sleeping. If she did such a thing as sleep.

  They made their way along the corridor toward the door they’d arrived through. There it was. No handle. No visible hinges. Just as if someone had blocked off the end of the hall with mirrored stone.

  Svetlana had laid her palm against it to make it open, hadn’t she? So that’s what Lina would do. The stone on her necklace grew hot again. They had to move fast.

  She stepped closer.

  A growl came from the air in front of the door. A loud, low sound, like a rumble of thunder. She froze. A shadow wolf.

  Lina’s gut twisted. A snort of hot breath from the invisible animal tickled the fine hairs on her arms. “Stay back,” she hissed, trying to make her voice forceful, like Svetlana’s, without being too loud. She felt behind her for Bogdan and then pushed herself in front of him. The wolves had once before obeyed her and not attacked. Bogdan was another story.

  A high-pitched whistle from behind them made Lina wince. It did something strange to her head. The sound traveled right through her skull.

  Twisting around, Lina caught sight of movement on the stairs. It reminded her of how the rags they hung in the windows of the labor camp to keep out the cold would twirl and turn in a storm, as if alive. Could it be the small shadow person?

  The whistle came again, in three short blasts this time. Then a huge force hit Lina in the stomach. Hard. Her legs gave way and she crumpled to the floor. Bogdan made a choked sound behind her — panicked, pained — but all she could do was gasp and clutch her own stomach, where an icy coldness spread out, chilling her bones.

  The wolf had leaped at her.

  As the pain of the cold subsided, Lina could pick herself up off the floor. Bogdan was lying beside her. He’d also been hurled to the ground when the ghost wolf had barged past them both, heading to whoever — or whatever — had called it off with that whistle.

  Lina saw the subtle movement on the stairs at the same time as she heard the whisper. “Nevertell . . .”

  That same phrase. Again. What did it mean?

  The scratching, scampering of the wolf’s paws on the stairs got farther and farther away. Lina groaned. The coldness in her stomach had turned to tingles, but her hip still felt numb. “Bogey — you OK?” She pulled him up by the arm.

  “Think so,” said Bogdan. He rubbed his leg and cautiously tested his weight on it, wincing.

  Lina glanced up at the dark-blue curtains, which seemed to twitch. “Let’s get out of here, quick.” She pressed her palm against the door. Nothing happened. “Er?”

  “Try again,” said Bogdan. “Think about it opening, or something.”

  “What good’s that going to do?”

  “I don’t know. Just try it!”

  Lina tried again, focusing hard this time. “Open.” The door swung back at her so fast she had to leap out of the way. A blast of cold air hit them from outside. It rushed down Lina’s throat and into her lungs like a shock of icy water.

  She struggled for breath. A clattering sound came from behind them — the wolf? Svetlana? There wasn’t time to find out. Bogdan recovered first and grasped Lina’s hand, limping out onto the frozen lake and dragging her beside him, across the ice — so perfect and clear they could see the snow clouds reflected in it from the sky above.

  Only when they were too far across to even consider going back did Lina remember Svetlana’s giant creature — Pechal, that monstrous fish guardian — and see the flash of its scales as it rose up beneath them.

  The whole lake shook.

  The body of the big fish slammed against the underside of the ice a second time, sending out a shock of hairline cracks. Lina and Bogdan tripped and fell.

  “What’s it doing?” shrieked Lina.

  Bogdan gritted his teeth. “Doesn’t want us to leave, that’s for sure.”

  Another slam shook them as they tried to stand. The cracks deepened. If it kept on this way, it would soon break through.

  Lina imagined the chasm that would open beneath them. How it would swallow them up. Plunge them into that icy water. Deliver them to those giant jaws. Her legs felt hollow. Her head swam. She had to push the thoughts away if she was going to save herself and Bodgan.

  The next slam catapulted them forward. They clung to each other in the air before luck landed them on their feet. Then they were running. Running fast. What else could they do?

  Something vast moved beneath them. Lina didn’t want to look.
But something inside her demanded it. She glanced down. A huge, round eye stared back, keeping pace with them below the ice: Pechal. The eye was gold-and-silver flecked — and pitch-black at its center, like a deep hole. The darkness of it widened a little, as if getting ready to swallow them.

  The eye surged ahead. The ice beneath them bulged and creaked under the pressure of Pechal’s gleaming body pressing upward. Lina and Bogdan started to slide. Without a second thought, they wrapped their arms around each other to save themselves from falling. Lina fixed her gaze on Bogdan. She had to, to stop herself from seeing Pechal’s eye. The lake’s depths. Bogdan only stared ahead, his jaw set, his sights on the nearing bank. “Skate,” he said.

  Skate? Of course. Not that they had any choice. They were already slipping down the ice as it curved against Pechal’s scaled flank, ready to buckle. Bogdan bent his knees and angled his feet for better stability — and speed. Lina followed his example.

  They turned their skid into a skating run. Lina focused on moving her legs, on breathing — and the strength of Bogdan’s grip on her. Beneath the ice, Pechal swam in bursts, speeding ahead before quickly falling back. If they kept up this pace, could they outrun him?

  The bank wasn’t far now. Another two minutes and they’d reach it. Pechal couldn’t follow them onto land. But Lina’s calves burned with the effort of driving forward, of keeping up with Bogdan. They trembled under her. If they buckled now, she would collapse.

  Then came the mist.

  It was wispy at first, but quickly it became white and heavy, like sunken clouds. The bank was swallowed by it completely. Still, it had to be there — even if it was hidden. Lina glimpsed Pechal again — not beneath them, as he had been, but a little farther off this time. His eye roved, as if searching. Had the mist confused him?